The Next Day A sequel to the Pilot Episode
by Melchy
Summary: What happened the day after Carolyn and her family moved into Gull Cottage? A Sequel.


_The Pilot episode of the Ghost and Mrs. Muir gives so much to the imagination, it just begs for a follow up. So, I started one, only to find out a couple of days later that Susan G had started one too. I liked hers better, but sent her mine and she said I should finish it and then we could both post them. Here is one of the offerings for The Next Day._

The Next Day – Sequel to the Pilot 

Kathy McManus

Carolyn awoke from a deep sleep and sat up quickly. It took a minute to focus on where she was. The light coming in through the French doors surprised her. Her bedroom had been on the dark side of the building, therefore she rarely saw the early morning light. As her eyes scanned the room, she took in the ornate fireplace, the desk still cluttered and dusty, the small couch set into the wood-paneled wall, but when she caught a glimpse of the telescope by the window, everything came back in a rush.

She was in Maine, in Gull Cottage and they were staying. She was not going back to Philadelphia and she would not be swayed. And, oh yes, there was a ghost!

She sat down a little lower, drawing the covers up around her. A ghost? There was no such thing as ghosts. She had been tired and distraught last night. Finally getting away from Philadelphia and being able to dictate her own life, she had been heady with her success. Finally a home of her own where she could live with her family, the way she saw fit. The Muirs had meant well, but she had felt so fenced in the last couple of years.

The smell of coffee from downstairs called to her and she started to get out of bed. Wait a minute! If there really was a ghost, and she blushed slightly thinking of how handsome he had been, if there was a ghost, then where was he right now? Was he watching her this minute?

Her bathrobe, she noticed, was lying at the foot of her bed and would be extremely hard to reach if she tried to remain covered. After a few attempts, she threw the covers back in disgust. "What am I doing this for? There is no such thing as a ghost!"

"'ve heard that if you say that enough, you start to believe it after awhile." Captain Gregg appeared good-naturedly by the telescope. "Good morning, Mrs. Muir."

A small scream escaped her lips as she quickly snatched the covers back up and tucked them under her chin.

"I would be offended at the way you just came in here except I just talked myself into believing you don't exist."

He laughed – a deep hearty laugh. "If that is so, then why are you trying so hard to get to your dressing gown without getting up?"

She rolled her eyes in agitation. "Blast!" She was out of bed in one bound and, with a defiant look toward the Captain, walked over to the bureau and began brushing her hair.

"Madam, really," he said, mockingly.

"It's certainly not the first time, and I doubt the last time, that a man will see me in my nightgown." After a longer than usual time with the brush, she grabbed some clothes from the closet and headed toward the bathroom where he heard the door shut firmly.

"I guess that answers my next question," he said aloud with a wicked grin. "It's either the first time or the last time she expects a man to see her – change clothes." He shook his head and wondered what kind of female he had been saddled with. 

*************

Carolyn took the cup of coffee that Martha offered and drank it slowly, letting the warmth go through her. There was nothing like a good cup of coffee to waken up your senses. Not that she needed it this morning. What an impertinent ghost he was. She rolled her eyes in frustration; there she went believing in him again.

Jonathan and Candy came into the kitchen and sat down at opposite sides of the table.

"Well, good morning, sleepyheads." Martha greeted them with plates full of pancakes. "Are you sure you don't want some, Mrs. Muir?"

Carolyn eyed the steamy stack on Jonathan's plate and felt her mouth water.

"Maybe one or two would be good, moving does seem to make me hungry."

"Especially when you have to do it twice," Martha said dryly, but gave her a plate of the warm cakes drowned in syrup.

"Can we go to the beach today, Mom?" Jonathan asked through a mouthful of food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Jonathan, and yes, we can. We do need to do a little cleaning first but I promise we can spend the afternoon at the beach."

"I never saw those two work so hard." Martha remarked later to Carolyn as Candy and Jonathan worked industriously, one with a dust cloth, the other with the broom. Carolyn was trying to finish up in the front room and the alcove, while Martha was going crazy to make sure her kitchen was in perfect order. They worked on for what seemed like hours, even to the grownups, making sure every speck of dust and cobwebs had been removed, making everything shine.

Carolyn looked back on the front room with deep satisfaction. The windows were clean and shiny, the floors and rugs were impeccable and she couldn't find a speck of dust anywhere. She ran a critical eye over the place and smiled. She didn't realize until she came face to face with the painting that she had been avoiding it.

Walking closer to the fireplace, she looked up into the eyes of the sea captain and purposefully stared. Yes, it was him, the eyes that she had seen last night. Oh she had been keenly aware of the man, but it was the eyes that intrigued her the most. Steady, a deep blue – eyes that held many secrets. Secrets that she . . . 

"That I don't care about or want to know about," she said aloud. She wasn't here to speculate on the secrets of a dead man's eyes. She had had enough of secrets to last a lifetime, and didn't need to worry about any new ones. No, she was here to work and provide for her family, and maybe discover a little bit about herself along the way. She had little time for other things.

Turning from the portrait abruptly, she almost fell over the rug lying beside the couch. She pulled herself up straight, hoping no one would notice.

"Kids, let's take a break and go down to the beach," she announced, allowing for their whoops of delight.

Packing up everything they needed, they headed for a spot not far from the house and the kids settled down to build a sand castle. Carolyn enjoyed the sun, sitting on a blanket reading a book. It was so hard to believe that she was actually here. From the moment she had first gotten the information from Mr. Gregg's office, she had tried to envision what it would be like to live in that house and have their own beach and be a part of something new. And now they were here and nothing was going to move her. Absolutely nothing.

It was a soft summer day, and the sounds of the sea birds were filling the air along with the comforting sound of the ocean. _It should be easy to write here_, she thought. She couldn't wait to start writing stories based on local legends and tales. Maybe a sea saga would be in order or a romance by the water's edge. But there were also the practical things that needed to be written and she mustn't overlook those. And in their financial condition, practical would be defined by anything she could sell. Even with the low price of rental on Gull Cottage it would be hard to make ends meet, but they would make it.

In the bright sun and sea air she felt rather silly for her behavior the night before. Actually packing up and attempting to move in the middle of the night. Where she had expected to go? All because her imagination had gotten the best of her and she thought she had been arguing with a ghost.

Everyone knew that ghosts did not exist outside of fairy tales. They were exciting to think about at Halloween or in legend like King Arthur returning to Camelot each Christmas Eve. That's where all good ghosts belonged, inside a book. They just didn't pop up in ordinary homes and talk to ordinary people, did they? But there he had been, a fine cut of a man with those amazing eyes and an overwhelming presence. She could certainly see him as the typical sea captain, man against the elements and all that, no love but his ship, but a girl in every port waiting for his return. It was the kind of thing that novels were made of. And that's what it was, a story.

But he had talked to her, she argued with herself. He had been standing almost close enough to touch, and so filled with arrogance. He had boasted and swaggered just like she had expected a sea captain to do, and he seemed quite proud of himself for being that way.

She hadn't meant to cry. She hated it when she cried. His unexpected gentleness at this reaction had surprised her but calmed her down as well. How tender he had sounded, almost begging her not to cry. His face had had a – Concern for her? Tenderness? Compassion? Good heavens, he was a ghost for crying out loud! Ghosts supposedly were beyond human emotions, weren't they?

Enough of those thoughts, he had been arrogant and annoying and, after driving them away, tried to make it sound like it was her fault. Her fault! And what was this thing about "our room?" You shared rooms with a sibling or a college roommate or your husband or perhaps a lover, but a ghost? A ghost that was so real, she should be able to reach out and touch him.

She brought her attention back to the children. Life was so short and they were getting so big. Jonathan was already in school and getting so tall. He was so intuitive it surprised her at times. And what was his obsession with this ghost? Had he really seen the spirit as well? From the minute they had walked in the house he had been spouting the Captain this, and the Captain that. She had been torn between wanting him to use his imagination and telling him that he needed to be sensible about some things. But was it fair to ask an almost six-year-old to be sensible? Besides, Candy would be sensible enough for the both of them. She was such a serious little thing, with a big heart and her father's smile. She probably missed her father more than anyone, she had been far closer than even she, Carolyn, had been with Robert.

"Mom!" Jonathan yelled out over the waves. "Mom! Come help me keep this ball away from Candy." He motioned toward the beach ball he was desperately trying to keep away from his sister.

"Yeah, come and play, Mommy," Candy begged. "We're having fun. Not that it will do Jonathan any good."

Carolyn got up from the blanket and threw off the shirt she had worn over her suit. The water's coolness met her feet and she delighted in the feel of it. "Come on, Jonathan," she joined them. "Let's show her who's boss."

Captain Gregg materialized a few feet away from where they were. He watched them play, shaking his head. So this was the family that was now residing under his roof. What a crew he had been burdened with. He had watched with interest as they cleaned and had to admit he liked seeing everything become clean and shining and put in its proper place. The housekeeper was still at the house now complaining about the horrible kitchen and how would she ever manage, but it had never looked better than it did right now. He had never had a cleaning woman do such a splendid job.

The sound of laughter drew his attention back to the group in the water. It was truly appalling what women wore at the beach these days. That outfit didn't leave much to the imagination, he thought as he admired the way she looked. She had very nice legs for a woman and the rest of her was very easy on the eye. He had never cared much for blondes, but with the way the sun was shining down on her, she looked almost angelic. And those eyes, green as the sea she was playing in.

It was the sight of those eyes filled with tears that had caused him to allow her to stay. He told himself firmly that he should never do anything again to make her cry.

He studied her face, now full of smiles. It was a determined face that could hide behind female wiles, he could tell already, but she wasn't one to use them as a regular thing, he was sure. Mrs. Muir was independent and stubborn and she certainly had no intention of letting anything get in her way, including him. Being with her and her family would be a challenge. But what was the good of existence without a challenge? He would welcome it.

***************

The children were actually ready for bed without being told and were asleep before their heads hit the pillows. They had worked and played so hard today, Carolyn thought as she kissed each one, lingering for a moment to watch them in their sleep. Candy's face was all scrunched up, her eyes tightly closed, looking so cute that way. Jonathan had already managed to throw the covers off and had only been in bed five minutes. Carefully she recovered him, before heading down to her own room.

Surprised at her own yawn, she headed toward the French doors to close the curtains but felt the outside beckoning her. Quietly she slipped out on the deck and went over to the ship's wheel standing strong and silent like a sentry. As she ran her hands over the smooth wood, she wondered what it would be like to actually control a ship with one. It looked so innocent and kind of funny, but this one thing could make a ship, complete with rigging and crew, either go left or right and change the course of history.

She leaned against it and sighed deeply. They had made it through their first whole day at Gull Cottage. It didn't matter what happened now, they had survived, and they would continue to do so. Tomorrow she would get her room in order and get started on what she was here to do, work. There was an article due by the end of next week for The Philadelphia Bugle on the Maine fishermen and she needed to start on it. But they had needed the break today.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" She heard his voice before she saw him appear not far from where she was standing.

Carolyn put a hand to her lips, trying to stifle the scream she felt coming. "Must you do that?" she inquired a little too loudly.

"You'll get used to it," he smiled coming closer to the wheel. He had a nice smile, she thought, when he wasn't being arrogant.

"It's very pretty here," she agreed, going back to his opening greeting. "I don't think I've ever seen such a peaceful night. Are those crickets that I hear?"

"Crickets, katydids, jar flies, they all have their unique sound and fill the night with their music."

"It is rather like a symphony. And much nicer to listen to than the cars going down the parkway," she added grimly.

"I was in Philadelphia shortly before I died," he said matter-of-factly. "I imagine it has changed quite a bit in over a hundred years. But I always thought it a beautiful city."

"Parts of it are," she shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I was born there, and I love it, but I really needed a change. And I think it maybe be here," she said, the last part more to herself than to him.

They stood on the deck in silence, she noticed he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Suddenly, Carolyn was possessed with the idea of trying to touch him. He said he was an illusion but he looked so real. Standing there against the railing, his hair blowing in the wind, his eyes intent on the ocean below.

She didn't mean to but she couldn't stop her hand from reaching out to touch his shoulder. She should have felt the cloth of his jacket, the firmness of his arm, but there was nothing. It was the strangest combination of hot and cold, almost like putting your hand out in a windstorm, except that it wasn't even that solid. Nothing, nothing but nothing.

Quickly she pulled her hand back, tucking it under her other hand and tried to look casual. She couldn't tell from his expression whether he knew she had tried this experiment or not. After a few minutes more, she casually said good night.

"Goodnight Mrs. Muir," he answered with a stern look on his face, but when she turned away from him she heard laughter. He was laughing at her!

Carolyn entered the room, closing the doors behind her but decided to keep the curtains open. The waning moon was shining in the sky and it made a pretty picture over the sea. And besides, if HE were here, he'd probably want to look out over the area with his telescope.

"Oh Carolyn." She laughed aloud at herself. "Don't be so silly." But still she reached for her nightgown and bathrobe and headed down to the hall bathroom.

"So . . . Carolyn." He rolled her name over his tongue, liking the sound of it. Carolyn . . . hmm. Not a usual name for his time, it gave a much more relaxed impression than the name Caroline had always given him. Carolyn Muir, what a beautiful name, so fitting for its owner, he thought. Something about music if he could remember correctly. Once in England he had picked up a book of name meanings, fascinated with the fact that each one meant something. Joyous melody, yes, that was it, and Muir – wasn't that something to do with the sea? "Joyous melody of the sea," he said aloud. What a lovely name, but only time would tell if it really would be true.

******************

He scanned the beach area through the telescope, wondering what tonight might bring and if they could all pass through it without some irrational female packing up and trying to leave again. He laughed at his joke, yes, he was fairly witty, wasn't he?

He dematerialized as she came back into the room, but didn't leave. She sat down on the edge of the bed for a moment, just sitting there, apparently lost in thought. After a few minutes she shook her head and crawled into the bed, throwing the covers up around her and getting settled down into the pillows. For quite a while she just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, not moving, barely breathing it seemed like but it wasn't fear that gripped her. Her green eyes were peaceful, but alert. What was she looking for, or was she just thinking? He watched as she settled the pillows into a ball and turned over on her side.

He couldn't help but notice that she stayed strictly on the same side of the bed as last night. Did she prefer it or was it from force of habit? Well enough of that, he materialized out to the widow's-walk, and let her sleep.

It was several bells past the midnight hour when Captain Gregg was startled by a curious noise. He wasn't sure what it was, it didn't seem to be threatening, but was continuous and sounded very lonesome.

He materialized into his room and saw the source of the noise, and his heart started breaking. Carolyn Muir lay on her side in the big bed, hugging one of the pillows against her, her body wracked with huge sobs. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes filled like water falls. What was the matter with her now? He hadn't done anything? He was sure of it.

"Madam?" he couldn't help himself.

She looked up startled, but didn't get up or try to stop her crying. She merely kept her gaze on him, her lips wavering with tears.

"Are you all right?" he asked, but still no answer, only these huge wracking sobs. "For God's sake, woman, what is the matter with you?" he bellowed, knowing he shouldn't have as soon as it came out of his mouth.

But for some reason, that seemed to calm her. She sat up, leaning against the headboard, the pillow still firmly in her grasp.

"I'm so sorry," she finally managed, a hint of fresh tears in her voice. "I don't usually fall apart like that. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Perfectly all right." He cleared his throat, pausing a moment before continuing. "I wasn't concerned." Again he paused. "I just wanted to see what the noise was. I'm glad it was nothing important."

"Captain," her voice was firm now. "What was it like out on the sea? Did you ever get frightened at first, not quite sure what to expect?"

Something in her voice made him tell her the truth. "Yes, Madam, at first it was a little frightening. It was the thing I wanted most in life, but sometimes at first it was quite frightening."

"I guess sometimes the things you do want the most are the scariest," she said, more to herself than to him.

"I guess they are indeed." He still answered her. Somehow he felt he should. It was nothing he could ever admit, but letting her stay here was very frightening for him. If she could be brave enough to stay, he certainly was brave enough to let her.

She stared at him, until he started to feel uncomfortable under her gaze. "Thank-you," she finally said.

"Well, if you're fine, I'll go and leave you to your sleep." He turned to go.

"Can . . . can you stay for a moment?"

"What? You don't even believe I exist, why should I?" But he was smiling now.

"I changed my mind." And she smiled. "Please, let's talk for a while."

Silently he sat down on the chair by the desk and drew it closer to her bedside. They talked for quite a while, without really saying anything. As the morning welcomed the sun, she was sleeping soundly and the peaceful look had returned to her face.

Not sure what to make of the night he had just been through, he watched her sleep for a time, marveling once more at her beauty. He may never be entirely sure what had happened during the night, but things would be changing around here, he was sure of it. If he dared to accept them as his own family, his afterlife would never be the same!

And that could be a very good thing.

End


End file.
